


Off With His Head

by nukabrola



Category: Destiny (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, xenogays!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 16:04:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4398344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nukabrola/pseuds/nukabrola
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Variks and Skolas are exes. Major exes. The 'we're gonna kill each other' kind of exes.</p><p>Have fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Off With His Head

**Author's Note:**

> Everything in italics is in Fallen. Everything else is English.
> 
> All of this comes from my Destiny tumblr --- http://manufacturedlight.tumblr.com/

Variks walked the twists of the prison, staff clipping the catwalk along with his heavy footfalls. His cape swung back and forth in the stale air, breath coming out in puffs of steam. _Cold in space_ , Variks mused, _But colder in prison_. The reef’s prizes–his prizes–sat in their cages, some struggling and others watching. He took note of those who seemed sharper than the others; who took care to see where their warden was wandering. It would be time to finally make good on old promises, and soon, but Variks felt the need to draw out the process. Give his old special one time to grow stronger and more venomous in his hate, perhaps that he may last longer. Perhaps that he may have more time to torment his Kell of Kells.

The Eliksni walked to the lift and descended into the depths, where his darker trophies were kept; To where Skolas rested. His staff pulled in close and hit the ground softer now. It would do no good to alert his wolf to his presence. That would only give him time to prepare. Quite mad he thought the disgraced, but madness was no score on his brilliance. Outside of Skolas’ cell, Variks drew himself up to full height and twitched at the twinge of pain in his spine.  Playing the part of old and feeble in front of the Queen’s eyes had done him no kindness, except for the small measure of privacy it had granted him.

A metallic and hollow clang sounded throughout the halls as Variks hit his staff on the screen of Skolas’ prison. He heard a heave from the darkness of the cell, and the blackness stirred. “ _Kellbreaker_.” Skolas rumbled, shuffling into the light, “ _You grace me with your presence, finally._ ” The once-kell stood like a challenge, and Variks felt a faint shimmer of pride. Yes, his other would fight well, even if he perished. Variks laughed.

“ _Do you think I come for a reason, Skolas, my prize_?” Variks held his staff in place, the fingers of his secondary hands threading themselves together, “ _A reason other than to talk to one that knows my language?_ ” The watchful eyes of his prisoner met his, skeptical. His words deep, he spoke. “ _I underestimated your cunning once more, Variks. Sometimes, I forget how you took that staff. Now, I think about it every waking moment._ ” The Kell’s primary hands rested on the screen, pressed up against it. “ _I do wonder why you meet with this one, Kellbreaker. I wonder many things about you._ ”

Variks held his chin high to meet the eyes of his once graced, and clicked, interested. “ _And I know many things about you, honor-bound._ ” He chuckled and saw Skolas shudder. “ _I could stand and gloat for hours about the things I know about you, Skolas, but I know better. I give you an_ inch _and you take a_ mile _._ ” Claws clicking on the staff, Variks tilted his head. “ _I apologize for the slaver tongue._ ” At that, Skolas’ hackles rose. The Kell snarled. “ _House Judgement must survive, yes?_ ”  The prisoner murmured, scratching at the screen. “ _Is that not your reason for everything?_ ”

With that, Variks took pause. It seemed his Kell was less crazed than he thought. Or, perhaps, just more bitter. “ _I am allowed to be selfish._ ” Variks replied, shoulders shrugging the cape to the side, revealing his mechanical arms more fully. “ _I believe I have lost enough to justify selfishness._ ”  His eyes never left Skolas, and he did not see him flinch. If anything, the hunger in his eyes grew. “ _Among what is lost to this one happens to be your trust in me. However misplaced it was._ ”  And his wolf did flinch at that.

Skolas’ hands drew away from the screen, crossing his chest. “ _My trust was never misplaced. Never tainted. I thought of you just as Drevis does Pirsis. As you do for the Great Machine. I am in longing._ ” Varik’s staff scraped, lifted, and smacked the floor, sending sparks. The scribe snarled, his hands balled up into fists. “ _Mistake your greed for longing and I may ask for the pleasure of spilling your ether myself._ ” Furious, Variks turned his back on Skolas, cape fluttering to the floor. “ _Since you have made no guess at my motives, I suppose I should reveal my intentions._ ” Shoulders heaving, the Eliksni peered over one. “ _Soon, I will come for you to be slaughtered. When you are being placed in the arena holding, I know you will want to fight. I know you will try to escape._ ”  Deep in his throat, Variks rumbled, subglyphs of pain bleeding through. “ _Do not._ ”

Skolas had retreated into the shadows of his cell, and Variks could work out what he was doing. Alerting the Queen to his trickery would make the odds larger against Skolas and even more threatening to himself, so he said nothing. Perhaps it would work in his favor, and Skolas would be his once again. Variks turned to leave, all four eyes tracking the movements of the shadows. “ _Fight well_.” He taunted, “ _And it may be your last._ ”

——————————–

Later, after the battle was done, and the Guardians were left with their spoils, Variks returned to the prison to walk the arena. The scent of ether hung heavy in the air, bodies of the wolves scattered across the battlefield. Silently, he stalked to the center, where the Guardians had driven back his Kell and cut him down. His body laid cooling in a puddle of ether, eyes dark. Variks set to taking his trappings, marking what he could sell and what he could salvage. His claws lingered over Skolas’ helm, brushing the scratches and lines leftover from the battle. Deftly, he unbuckled and pried the armor from the body, and chuckled. Bitter.

It seemed he would have Skolas’ head after all. 


End file.
